


Michelle

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-11
Updated: 2004-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1920s Paris, Spike encounters a delectable snack for the evening. But there's more to this girl than he guessed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Michelle

_1927…_

Paris nights in the spring smelled of life, hope, and love. It was a seductive scent, one that led many a traveler wandering about the cobbled streets, still lit up and filled with people this early in the evening. The cusp of twilight when all enjoyed the beauty of the night without fear of the dangers that pitch-blackness brought to unsuspecting human souls.

And Spike couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at their delusions of safety as he walked among them. So many vampires hid in their nests until midnight, missing the brief glimpse of typical human existence they were allowed in moments like these. Cowering in their crypts and abandoned shacks, isolating themselves on the fringes of society. Just because he could, Spike brushed against one human, bumped into another. Felt their warmth seep into him even at such brief contact. Other vampires hid; the Slayer of Slayers…er, _Slayer_ – and one day he’d really have to do something to let himself use the plural properly – mingled with them.

He’d left Dru in a rather sour mood that evening. She’d taken a fancy to some radio announcer’s foreign voice and spent hours in bed, languishing about nude on her back, listening, and completely ignoring the…er, _stress_ her naked body was putting on him.

Refused for the third and final time, he’d stormed out into the last minutes of daylight. It would’ve been a dramatic gesture if he hadn’t spent nearly every morning and evening since he’d been turned making himself just a little bit more accustomed to the light. He didn’t even smoke at all really now, unless the sun’s rays hit him dead on. Just another thing that meeker vampires were missing…

Shaking off thoughts of earlier that evening, he wound his way through the streets, nostrils flared, on the prowl. He was always surprised just how quickly the hunt could make all his problems fade to nothing. Any irritation he’d felt towards Dru evaporated with the sweet scent of human sweat, and his hardness now was in anticipation of blood rather than sex.

On normal nights, he just grabbed the first decently fit looking prey that wandered from the herd. He always enjoyed a bit of fight in his victims as their fear perfumed the air. Tonight, however… Tonight, he was in the mood for something special.

He wandered about idly, shopping for his dinner. Decided quickly that the spice he felt like tonight was sex. Best to head on over to one of the nightclubs, then. There were always young, foolish things hanging around there, many of them of the feminine variety who would gladly follow him out into the night.

The freedom of just wandering about wherever he pleased without a care in the world – beyond an occasional bite to eat – never grew old. He happened upon a club, stalked his way right past the well-dressed doorman. He wasn’t exactly up to this place’s dress code, but who gave a damn? Certainly not the doorman, if he knew what was best for him. Which, apparently, he did. Spike scented at least two other predators in the crowded room. The doorman’s intelligence was based on experience then, rather than instinct.

Spike had long since decided that the music of this era was dreadful. Sure, it had a bit more excitement to it than the drudgery of the music in his own lifetime, but it was so…bland, even in its excitement. It pulsed with fashion and trend, but nothing that called to the demon within. Of course, he was a Classical Era sort of vampire, and he doubted his tastes in music would ever change.

This place was filled with the sort of music that just floated over his head. Nothing interesting there. The people, however, they _were_ interesting. Women in short skirts with short hair dancing the night away. Dear old William would’ve been scandalized; Spike reveled in the scent of lust that pervaded the room.

He circled his newest hunting ground slowly, selecting his kill carefully. Something pretty with a bit of spice, he thought. A tender young thing that would moan beneath him as he drained the blood from their veins…

A boy of no more than eighteen caught his gaze in that moment. Pretty thing, indeed, with long, curling lashes. Spike grinned, stalked forward through the crowd…

And was stopped by perfection itself.

The young woman who bumped into him apologized profusely in French. He could make out occasional words, but didn’t really bother to listen. Because, before him, was the perfect midnight snack. Short and petite, black hair bobbed in the current style, green eyes looking up at him coyly from under dark lashes. The air around them was scented strongly with her pheromones, and there was no doubt in his mind that she’d bumped into him on purpose. A beautiful woman with good taste and a bit of predatory instinct herself…

He smiled.

“Quite all right, luv.” He probably could’ve pulled off enough French to make himself understood, but Big Bad’s did not compromise on languages. He was the hunter here; he set the stage.

She blinked at him for a second, not comprehending. And then smiled a shy, coy little smile at him. “British?” she asked, and the tip of her tongue came out to wet her lips.

Wicked, little vixen… He fought the growl in his chest that this woman was inducing. Fuck, he wanted her. Wanted to bury himself in that seductive little form – cock and fangs – and force every ounce of pleasure from her that he could. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he was aware of the fact that he usually didn’t want his prey quite _this_ badly, but he brushed the thought aside. He was just edgier than usual because of his fight with Dru earlier. And if Dru was going to touch herself to the sound of some anonymous French bloke’s voice, then Spike could have an equally delicious French voice in his ear gasping for both more and less as he brought her ecstasy and death all in one fell swoop.

He held out one hand and gestured to the dance floor. Every self-respecting predator in his right mind knew how to twirl amongst fresh human flesh with the best of them.

The British thing didn’t seem to put her off in the slightest. Score one for international relations. He planned to score several more times before the evening was through…

“Michelle,” she whispered softly as their bodies moved opposite each other.

“Spike,” he offered with a little leer before pulling her sharp up against him in time with the beat.

Whatever song was playing was bouncy and peppy and gave him ample opportunities to discover how well her body cleaved to his. Hell, if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn she was grinding against him like that on purpose. Not that the women here didn’t know where all the proper male parts were located; this wasn’t the dear old Victorian era where, if he’d even managed to successfully woe Cecily, Spike very much doubted William would’ve known what to do with her. But still… It seemed he’d picked himself an inordinately sexual creature this night.

He realized belatedly that they were receiving stares. Silly children, trying to shock their parents by their outrageous behavior, but then turning around and acting equally mortified as Spike pressed his hips into hers and ground hard. Her eyes rolled back in her head with a moan of ecstasy when the pulsing beat sent their bodies apart again, only the tips of their fingers touching in a gesture that was almost more erotic for its contrast to the previous one.

He watched the scandalized mortals around them, the flush of her breast in her low-cut olive top, the pounding rhythm of her heart as she lost herself in him. Simply delicious…

“Evil eyes all around, pet,” he whispered in her ear as the dance finished and they waited for the next to start. “What do you say we get out of this place?”

She frowned, uncomprehending.

He inclined his head to the door and raised one eyebrow. The one that that Slayer back in China had slashed. Dru had informed him he had a neat scar there that made him look like a perfect rake.

But, apparently, a rake was what this girl wanted. Her fingers curled around his slowly, seductively, and she led him from the dance floor and out into the night. Who said you needed a common language for a good shag?

As she led him through the pale orange circles of the street lamps, Spike wondered that he didn’t find it disappointing that this was all so easy. After all, the challenge was half the fun, not that any humans were really that challenging… Although that gang of demon hunters back in Amsterdam had gotten in a few decent scratches before he’d shattered their bones to dust. But there was always the challenge of the seduction, the trickery – and treachery – in luring someone’s sweet little girl (or boy) out into the night alone with the Big Bad. The skill in making them want it – want _him_ – so bad they threw away all rationality and common sense just for the promise of his kiss. A kiss fatal, but well worth it, if he did his job right, issuing one final climax from their frail mortal bodies as they gasped out their last breath.

This was very different, however. This woman, for all her shy smiles and quiet looks, had known what she wanted the minute she’d lain eyes on him. He hadn’t even had to do a damn thing. It wasn’t his usual style or taste. But, then, there was a certain amount of pride that came from knowing a girl wanted him so much just on sight that she’d go this far to have him. Puffed him right up, especially since he’d been so cruelly ignored earlier tonight.

An extraordinarily insecure part of him felt the irrational impulse to drag this girl back to Dru, just to say, “See? _You’re_ the problem here. I’m still so sexy, I’ve got victims falling at my feet, _begging_ to be taken.” He reigned in such impulses, of course. That, and the anticipation was such that it was getting hard to walk; the course fabric of his trousers didn’t work well with his current levels of arousal at all.

Fortunately, Michelle had decided they’d walked long enough as well. Putting one finger to her lips to indicate that he be quiet, she looked around furtively, before giggling and dragging him through some hedges along the little park path they’d been walking along.

He followed her eagerly to find himself in a cool, secluded grove. She stood before him looking demur, her fingers still curled hesitantly around his.

And he grinned. She let out a little squeak of surprise when he crushed her body against his and caught her lips with his own voraciously. He took the opportunity to force his way within her mouth roughly, plundering the sweetness within.

For a moment, she tensed in his arms, as if she were just now realizing that this definitely wasn’t a nice boy she’d lured to this secluded place. But then she caved in to his passion, her arms sliding around his back to hold him close, her lips eagerly moving against his, tasting and savoring him as well.

He groaned at the fresh smell of her arousal and pushed her back against the nearest tree. She hissed at the rough gesture and again when he forced one knee between her thighs. But then she was grinding against his thigh, and he could smell her sex growing stronger and more excited, and he knew her hisses and moans were of pleasure rather than pain.

A small, warm hand slipped between their bodies, and he swore when she cupped his erection. She paused for a moment, uncertain whether his hoarse exclamation had been a sign to continue or stop, but he ground into her palm, letting her know that it was the good sort of swearing.

He had to touch her, then, all over. Her skin seemed aflame, and it drew him like a moth. Although not as deadly, he had to remind himself. His tongue traced the side of her throat, experimenting with where he should bite her later. The salt of her skin made his mouth water, and it was hard for him to remember he wanted more pleasure from her than her blood in that one moment.

But then she squeezed his length, and his mind was back entirely on the sex once more. It seemed intolerable in that moment that she was touching him, but he wasn’t touching her. His hand found the hem of her short little skirt, stroked up the stockings on the insides of her thighs, past her garters, and up to the silky scrap of fabric that stood between him and bliss.

Her green eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect little ‘O’ when his thumb flicked her clit. And he couldn’t help but imagining her, that expression on her face, as she took his cock between those ruby red lips of hers. Just the thought had him threatening to burst.

With a roar, his lips smashed into hers once more, and his fingers plunged inside. So hot and tight…just like her fist around his cock, and damn but he had to have her _now_.

She let out a confused little whimper when he brushed her hand aside. But she understood as he fumbled desperately with his belt, opening up his pants for her. Lust: The universal language. She helped him, pushed down his trousers, stroked the pale skin of his cock, molding her hand around his hardness.

It felt like bloody heaven, but he had no patience for this sort of foreplay anymore. He lifted her up, marveling at how she wrapped her legs around his waist without resistance, and drove into her, the tattered remains of her undergarments fluttering to the ground.

He drove into her roughly, violently. She seemed even hotter now, a fiery, remorseless heat that pulled his pleasure from his body fiercely. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this out of control with a woman before. He was pounding her mercilessly now, hard enough that even he knew he should slow down because, after all, she was just mortal, and this had to be hurting her like hell. But he couldn’t stop.

Instead of crying in pain, she was writhing in his arms, however. Her arms latched around his throat, trapping him tight against her, urging him on deeper, harder…

He felt his knees giving way, and struggled not to collapse at the pleasure. She was whispering softly to him now, sweet French nonsense, and he was convinced for a second that he had to be losing it because he thought he could hear the echo of her words in his head, only comprehensible. She was calling him handsome, telling him he was the most powerful lover she’d ever had, urging him to go harder, murmuring her disbelief that he was bringing her this much pleasure…

The last shred of his control snapped, and he vamped out at her.

She froze for a second in his arms, eyes wide, before whispering out one surprised word: “ _Vampire_!”

He grinned…and then blinked in disbelief as her own features shifted, not into his breed, but the ivory-white, indistinguishable mask of stone sculpture that indicated her species only too well. He swore. “Bloody fuck! You’re a succubus!”

She hissed in anger, her hand shooting out to grab his throat as she rode him. He cried out in pleasure, but he could feel for the first time that it wasn’t just a metaphor: This fuck really _was_ good enough to kill him.

He struggled against her, caught her wrist and yanked it from his throat, even as he felt his strength fade. His knees buckled and gave way, and he fell to the ground, driving himself deeper inside.

She tried to push him onto his back, take her place atop him as she finished him off. And, with the last of his strength, he lunged forward, caught her roughly by the short hair at the base of her skull, and sunk his fangs in deep.

Instantly, the weakening feeling faded as her warm demon blood filled him, returning a fraction of his stolen strength. They were both draining each other at once now and, if all other things had been equal, Spike wasn’t sure whose demon would have won out. But she’d gotten a sizeable head start on him, and his demon was struggling even to hold onto this mortal form.

 _Finally found a woman so hot she’s going to burn me to dust_ , he thought giddily.

Her fingers were yanking at his hair now, trying to pull him back off of her throat. Closing in for the kill. Her hands were on his shoulders, too. And his dizzied mind tried to comprehend this even as he was forced from her veins and shoved roughly back onto the ground.

She held him down with two of her arms, the other two cupping her breasts in a languid caress as she rode him. Her face lit up with a wicked smile, her demon face still forward. She looked then like a cross between some kind of Hindu goddess and one of those white comedy masks smiling down at him, a cold green fire lit up in the black sockets of her eyes.

Spike felt his will to fight her fade, felt his body overcome by the pleasure of hers. With every thrust, he could feel a little more of his essence pull through the tip of his cock and into her body but, if it felt like this, he didn’t care anymore…

Didn’t…

Care…

At all…

* * *

“Wake up, my naughty boy,” a soft voice whispered in his ear.

“Mmm?” he groaned, slowly coming back to his body. “Dru?”

“Silly boy,” she chided him lightly, her fingers trailing over his chest and slowly circling one dusty nipple that little witch had dared to expose. “Don’t you know to always smell your food first before you taste it? Must make sure it’s fresh…”

“She smelled _human_ , Dru.” His head was pounding, but he finally managed to open his eyes to see his Sire above him. Belatedly, he realized he was lying back on the ground, his head cradled in her lap.

“Nasty, tricky creatures…” Dru growled over at the scattered remains of the succubus.

Spike turned his head lazily and smiled at the scattered demon parts that lay strewn about the glade. Michelle’s severed head lay only a few yards away, her mouth opened into a silent, endless scream. “How’d you find me?” he asked lazily, nuzzling his cheek against Dru’s thigh.

“Little _bitch_ tried to enter your mind,” Dru flashed her fangs and snarled. “Doesn’t know that your insides _aaall_ belong to me…”

It was startling to hear Dru use such crude language. Not his princess’ usual behavior. But, then, one never knew how violently she’d react when someone threatened what was hers. And that, he most certainly was. “Yours,” he mumbled in agreement.

Her expression softened at that. “My pretty must watch himself,” she commented, long nails tracing down one sharp cheekbone. “So tasty, he is. Wicked little harlots will try to steal him away from me, if he’s not careful.”

“Yeah, I blew it,” he confessed wearily. “Won’t happen again, luv.”

She giggled to herself. “The little princess is always ready to save her strong, dark knight,” she teased. “Poor, helpless little creature…” She stroked his hair lightly.

He growled and got up out of her lap. “Rub it in, why don’t you, pet?”

Her arms slipped around him from behind, and she whispered seductively in his ear. “If my sweet wanted to be devoured, he need only have asked…” She nibbled on his lobe, twisting it between blunt teeth.

“ _Tried_ to—” he began. But then her hands were on his cock – still swollen from where he’d almost been drained earlier – and she wasn’t hot, but blissfully cool, soothing him, exciting him. Making everything the way it _should_ be again.

She shook off his argument. “Mommy will always come for her William,” she cooed against him. “And anyone who tries to take him away…” Her fingers turned to claws and raked deep scratches up his chest. Marking him as hers once more.

He hissed with pain and relief. “You’re missin’ your show,” he commented absentmindedly.

“Lovely show here, too.” She was jerking him off slowly now, and he slumped back against her, watched her hands work wonders on him. “I think I’m tired of France…”

“Me, too, pet.” He moaned against her. “Me, too…”

* * *

 _1965…_

“ _Michelle, ma belle…_ ”

With an angry snarl, Drusilla slammed the off button on the radio.

“Hey!” Spike complained, breaking off his singing when the song died. “Was listenin’ to that!” Just his luck. Humans finally come up with some halfway decent music, and Dru hates the whole damn genre…

“No need to listen,” she insisted sullenly, her arms folded over her chest in a childish pout. “’s the sappy one, anyway.”

“This isn’t about the relative song-writin’ abilities of the Beatles,” he retorted. “’s about you shuttin’ off the damn radio halfway through every song with…” He frowned for a second, finally making a connection in his brain.

“With that _harlot’s_ name,” Drusilla finished angrily.

Spike grinned, realization dawning on him. “Someone’s jealous,” he sing-songed lightly before shaking his head. “Honestly, Dru, that bloody bird nearly killed me. Not to mention you ripped her into lovely pieces.”

“My William doesn’t call my pieces lovely,” she sniffed slightly. “And he always lusts for the worthy foe.”

“Your pieces are the loveliest, pet,” he assured her. He couldn’t help but smile nostalgically at her assessment of her, however. That had been quite brilliant, really. Almost fucked to death…

A deep growl rumbled through her chest at the wistful smile on his face. “She fills your mind with worms, even now…”

Spike shook his head. “Wasn’t entirely a bad time,” he confessed, “but ‘ve got myself the winner of that li’l battle.” One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her up against him.

Her nails sunk sharply into his thigh, causing him to his in pain. Still the angry lioness, then. Well, he’d make her purr…

She let out a little cry when his lips covered hers and he pushed her back down onto the seat behind him. The car swerved, but he caught the wheel with one hand, keeping them on the road.

“My boy likes it dangerous…”

“Doesn’t get more dangerous than you, pet.” He did pull over, though. No possible way he could keep them from going up in a ball of flames and pay his princess the attention she deserved all at once.

“Be careful or one day you’ll find someone so dangerous she’ll suck you _right_ up.” Dru made a little slurping sound to illustrate her point.

“Yeah, but you’ll always be there to save me, right, pet?” he teased. He pressed her down to the seat beneath him and slid one hand up her dress…

“If only,” Dru gasped, eyes wide as she stared into pleasure and eternity. “If only…”


End file.
